


The Angel of Venice

by worldwidecupcake



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Europe, M/M, Magic, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldwidecupcake/pseuds/worldwidecupcake
Summary: Ludwig is an archeologist who gets a big assignment of researching a recently discovered statue. As he is doing his usual inspection with his touches against the stone, he ends up breaking part of a curse that turns the statue human.Feliciano was cursed long ago, why and how he does not know, continuing to suffer transformations from stone to skin. Ludwig intends to fix this and find answers. Together they will traverse Europe looking for clues, stories and even an adventure that would help them solve the mystery and break the full curse before it’s too late.ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, starting a whole new story that I have so desperately wanted to share for so long. This idea has been in my head since July 2016. An idea that got formed on my first ever trip around Europe, but never got written on a document until last year, finally getting formed and it makes me incredibly happy to be able to post the first chapter. All the locations that will appear in this story are all places I was in as a sort of tribute and token to how wonderful that trip had been.
> 
> Nothing was researched except for some small things so there is bound to be a lot of inaccuracies. This was done for enjoyment, not to exhaust myself with vast academic readings. I apologize highly if I happen to offend anyone. You can message and we can talk about it if you wish and I can fix it appropriately.
> 
> As Throwing Cellphones and Office Sweet, this story has a draft page and the next two chapters are done. Still, it can take me some time to edit them next so I can’t promise a weekly update as I had with the two other mentioned stories. I will just them post them once they’re done and sadly, be prepared to have to wait once the draft page is empty and I have to fill it up to be able to post again somewhat quickly. It expect it to be as long as Throwing Cellphones had been, perhaps a bit longer, but we’ll see about that later.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new endeavor!

Flashing lights, aggravating crowds, reporters wanting immediate answers, shoving their microphones with the usual questions that Ludwig had heard enough of ever since the discovery. They followed him all throughout the parking lot, with the consistency of noise, of begging, of demand, and yet he remained in the same stoic expression, eyes forward and his mouth shut. His secretary, Roderich, had advised him to simply remain silent and move along to the main doors of the museum, which he managed easy entrance to with the help of guards who did well in pushing away the massive crowds, bringing Ludwig to the relaxation of its marbled walls, its silence, visitors watching in elegance and trying to avoid obvious glances to the known archeologist. His visit was a well-known one, mentioned in all kinds of articles and journals, an attention that he had been aggravating about and the museum knew well about, especially after the director, Francis Bonnefoy, warned them to not add to the stress he was surely feeling with everything that was going on. Said Frenchman was the very first one to greet him, with a handshake and having a worker take Ludwig’s coat elsewhere. 

“I apologize greatly for this, I hadn’t thought that the news would be this strong. I should have done something to avoid the information of your coming and the whereabouts of the statue being said publicly.” 

“It’s to be expected. After all, it was found in all old dungeon, covered for centuries under an old bookstore in Venice with an anonymous sculptor,” Ludwig reminded, taking lead in their head through the halls. 

“Just the kind of thing to have the art world fretting,” Francis pointed as he followed behind him. 

“What work has been done?” Ludwig asked. 

“Only the usual cleansing. Other than that nobody has dared to do anything until your inspection.” 

“Anything revealed after it?” 

“No, just some assumptions on the artist after some examination.” 

“Cominelli? Sebenico?” Ludwig wondered after the first initial pictures and information he had been sent. 

“Some wondered Alessi, Tagliapietra, even a lost sculpture of Michelangelo or Bernini.” Francis had to admit that it was all rather exciting, taking a card to open one of the restricted double doors that led to the storage basement of the museum. 

“But we already checked through all their writings and found no such mentioning of this statue.” 

“Any other sculptors?” 

“We had a team in charge of this, we found nothing. Perhaps were dealing with a more obscure artist.” 

“Perhaps this was the only statue he ever made in his lifetime.” 

“With the details, the impeccable form and perfection…I highly doubt it.” Francis was sure. 

They occasionally met with Interns who followed with their own questions, wanting to use such a chance as having the famous archeologist, Ludwig Beilschmidt, in their own privacy, all to which Ludwig answered in quick phrases as to not stall. He really couldn’t say more until he had the trending and suddenly acclaimed statue right before him, and the closer they were in its proximity, the more he was reminded of his excitement, quickening him to the point that Francis had to basically run to match his pace. 

They soon met heavier guarded doors, with all kinds of scanning devices and even computers that Francis used a good minute to just unlock and let themselves proper entrance to this area of the deep basement. It was a small hall with labeled rooms, documenting name of the statues and the personnel permitted to work on it. 

Room number 1317, name: The Angel of Venice, was the one, one of the largest in the hall, too large since the statue it held was not that immense but just the proper size of any young man, taking center, space just enough for anybody to come close, inspect around, tables holding all kinds of books, files, utensils, supplies, from the cleaners, the interns, Francis, who was the director, and now Ludwig, placing his own bag in one of those many banks as he let himself stare in awe to this new majesty. 

The statue was that of an angel, a boy, the age rather obscure. Some features made him older, perhaps twenty-three, but others, like his youthful face and the smoothness of his captured movements could hint at him being sixteen or eighteen. He had the typical curls of these kinds of statues, one in particular standing above all the rest as some kind of ruler, all parted at the center, letting the frontal bangs frame and show the beauty of his facial features. He was naked, showing a delicate body, slim but plump in certain areas that made his figure excellent and tempting. His whole body showed his extend as he seemed to rise upward, going for a jump as if to catch or stop something falling from an imaginary heaven. The wings at his back moved well along with him, caught in that very wind as the very piece of fabric that went around his body, covering his genitals discreetly, accenting his voluptuous figure and his grace as an angel. 

Francis had seen this statue enough times before him like this and yet he always fell into the same awe, the same admiring and captivation that left him silent and pensive. Ludwig didn’t mock or insult, he understood, for it was exactly what he was going through, especially after this was the very first time he was watching the statue in person. 

Beautiful…utterly beautiful. What a chance he was given to work on this, how grateful he was for his position, for the time he will have to analyze and find information to clear up the history of this majesty that was before them now. 

“Any idea of what year it’s from?” Ludwig asked after he shook himself back to their original concentration. 

“Fifteenth century we assume. Some of our interns speculate perhaps early sixteenth century. We are not clear on a specific year and we wondered you could pinpoint.” 

“No writings mentioning?”

“From what we’ve searched, no.” 

“Yet you’re sure it’s Italian. Venetian?” 

“Positive. I’m sure you’re seeing it clearly as well,” Francis was confident and Ludwig had to give him the right, but it did not stop his eyes from scanning any other details that could point differently. 

“It was found in Venice after all,” Francis assured with an expectant smile. 

“How will my scheduling work to check on it?” Ludwig wondered, ever as diligent, Francis expected as much. 

“We’re prepared to offer you whatever time you need,” Francis confided. 

“And accommodations?” Although the museum was located in the mainland, it was still in an important center, with it being the port that would bring most of its relics to display in the islands, as this particular statue was set to. As so, it meant that it would be pricey. Of course, Ludwig had the funds, but he rather preferred to have as much given as possible with the kind of work and time he would need for this. 

“We can give you an apartment to your use for as long as you need, with keys and cards to enter the museum whenever you wish,” Francis coated. 

“Very well then,” Ludwig was decided, turning to face Francis, finally away from the statue to show his decree. “I will start in a fortnight. Give me this time to settle myself as well as to find any other outer information. I know you mentioned your workers and interns tried to, but I have to check upon this by myself as well. When the statue was found, are you sure it was alone? Was it with any other items? Documents?” 

“It was in a cellar hidden well underneath a book store. No parchment, no utensils, it was truly alone except for the water that occasionally flooded the space.” 

“Do you still have the contacts to the owners and workers of this book store?” 

“Yes.” 

“I require them.” 

“We already interviewed the owners.” 

“As I said, I will do my own findings,” Ludwig determined. 

Francis nodded and accepted to whatever could be of help. It was why they called him, it was why they confided in him to give them the piece of completion to this statue that would help them to finally put it on exhibition and present an answer to an incredibly curious mystery. 

“We’re all upstairs ready for your contract signing,” Francis could finally present. 

“Very well. Shall we go then?” 

They turned and left the statue to its accustomed loneliness and darkness. 

 

“-It was just as you suspected, the Wolanski are not the original owners of the building,” Roderich informed in the call, going through the notes and files on his own desk back at Vienna. “They were wealthy Polish tourists who simply bought the building on a whim and took ownership of the store. It took a six minute conversation to find out they have no idea of the mechanisms and fundings, they don’t even know their inventory or the names of their workers, but they did have their numbers, so it helps us and perhaps it would serve you better to contact them instead.” 

“Figured as much. Do you have all the workers?” Ludwig asked from the comfort of his own given apartment, at the table going through files and the directions of the store on his laptop. 

“Yes, I even took the liberty of calling. Some of them are newer members who’ve only been there for a couple of months, but there’s this one girl, Erminia Sessa. She’s been there for years, in fact, she’s the granddaughter of the past owner and the one who actually found the statue.” 

There, that was the person he needed to talk to. 

“Did you tell them about me?” 

“Yes, told them you might be visiting sometime this week to gather some answers.” 

“Perfect. I’ll see if I can head there tomorrow. You know how busy and crowded these ports can get.” 

“The museum didn’t give you better contacts for that?” 

“No. They probably expect me to clear everything from this hotel room. I should have mentioned it to them now that I think about it.” 

“How odd, you forgetting such details,” Roderich mocked. 

“There’s a lot on my mind about this,” Ludwig tried to excuse, groaning and straining as if the pile of everything just landed newly upon him. 

“You are blessed to have me organizing what I can then, and that I even take time away from my piano playing to help you on this. You should consider raising my pay.” 

How haughty. 

“If we get the full story to this statue, it could be possible.” Ludwig at least gave him that expectation. 

“We better get to it. Leave me be so I can keep finding what I can.” Roderich just hanged up without warning, leaving Ludwig quite perplexed, but he accepted and focused instead on other information. 

 

He took one of the early morning yachts the museum offered him on a short notice, part of the early touristic crowds that filled the streets annoyingly, seeming to make the morning sunshine worst. Ludwig tried to avoid as much closeness to people as he could, but in these small streets, with the beginning of summer, impossible. He ended up accepting the bumps, the close trips, even the occasional comments on his stature, on his attraction, on questioning over the long coat jacket he wore under this strong sun. He would scare them away with his heavy stare, denial or even scoff depending on how insisting the person was being. It was a relief to have finally met a somewhat empty street, deep within the confinements of the city that didn’t make it known to the usual wave of tourists. There was a pawn shop, a fine jewelry store, a café and finally the book shop he was looking for. 

‘La stella dell’orizzonte’ it was called, the glass decorated and presenting the books that would surely grab an interest to the public. When he entered, only a singular couple was there, going over the books in the Christian shelves, all organized neatly along with the other sections, a stack here and there creating pillars as if to hold the very ceiling. He spotted spiral stairs that would lead to another floor, to more books, to perhaps a view, or even a little café. 

“Signore Beilschmidt?” A female asked, stopping Ludwig’s wandering, having him turn to meet the figure of a young woman, shy, rather hesitant, but surely ready to be compliant to whatever the blond would say. 

“Are you Erminia Sessa?” 

She nodded. 

“Greetings. As my secretary has probably already told you, I’m here from the museum of Padua. They recently hired me to research the statue that I was later informed you found.” 

“I was the one who called the museum, I wasn’t contacted again after they came to pick it up,” she seemed rather disappointed about that. 

“They didn’t?” 

“They didn’t think I would know anything.” 

“I was told by my secretary that your grandfather used to own the book shop. Could you tell me about this, as well as your experience on how you found this statue? Anything you know will be of great use,” Ludwig seemed to plead. 

She nodded and ushered him to follow, bringing him into the inner halls of the shop away from any usual commotion that might arise. 

“This building is old, I’m telling you, centuries old. My grandfather used to hold documents concerning it from as early as the fourteen hundreds, passed along by all kinds of families until somehow ours got it, from nineteenth century on until the Wolanski bought it from us,” she began to explain as the books disappeared, as they began their entering unto more eldered walls. 

“Is it possible to ask of you all those documents?” 

“I’ll have to find and organize them, but I’ll send scanned copies as soon as I have them,” she determined, which assured Ludwig enough. 

They took a narrowed staircase down to the basement of the building, humid, with an awful odor and the walls so old it seemed like they would collapse at any moment. Ludwig didn’t understand how it managed to keep the upper areas standing. 

“From those old documents, my family realized that this building was meant to have three rooms in the basement area, but for as long as possible we only knew of two. I myself was very curious about it, as the documents mentioned that it had been a very important room and that…something was hidden there.” They reached the bottom, a hall showing two opened areas, surely those two rooms of unimportance, Ludwig seeing that they simply used them as some sort of utility closets. “After reading and watching so many mysteries, I kept coming down here hoping to find some secret entrance, something abnormal and then I noticed it.” By this moment, she had grabbed her flashlight, for the hall was darkened and lights from the upper floor weren’t enough to show exactly what she had found. Ludwig assumed she had broken through one of the walls for she pointed to a wreck, probably done with a sledgehammer, the hole enough for passage, one that they both could use and go through easily. 

“I noticed something off with the echoes, then during acqua alta the pouring noises that always resounded across the building, even how the pillars were older compared to the frontal wall. That’s when I knew that there had to be something there.” 

“So you went ahead and just destroyed it.” It seemed too brash for Ludwig. 

“I was sure and curious, so yes, I did just that, and that’s when I found it.” She meant the statue, remembering clear her awe, her impression, halted to the spot thinking it perhaps a dream, lost in her discovery, her mind begging answers to a sure story. 

She pointed her flashlights to sewers at the top and bottom, the walls still wet and even letting new water continuing to drip below, already puddles forming, some leaving out back into the other sewers. 

“Throughout the years this room kept flooding, not to mention that they sealed it completely,” she began to wonder. “The documents don’t specify exactly what was in there and why, just that there was something, but no one dared to find out. Many were superstitious, including my own grandfather, so they thought some evil was locked away and they decided not to deal with it.” 

“What do you think this means?” Ludwig asked. 

She only shrugged. She was only saying speculations. “Someone tried to hide it, someone tried to hide whatever proof of this statue. Why and what for, I’m sorry, Mr. Beilschmidt, I don’t know, there’s nothing else I can say.” She was apologetic, but Ludwig understood. 

“And are you positive that it was alone, nothing else with it?” 

“I’m very sure.” 

He was once again at a dead end. 

He sighed disappointedly but thanked her, reminding her to send those documents before he settled off back into the earlier masses, only adding to his annoyance and ineptitude. 

 

Erminia had sent every scanned document on an email attachment, there for Ludwig to inspect the moment he returned back to his rented apartment after the dinner he was forced to attend at Francis Bonnefoy’s request with the rest of the archeologists and interns who were working with the Angel of Venice. Honestly, going through these readings was actually quite relaxing after having been forced to socialize, even though he remained much of the diner silent and only nodding to whatever was directed his way. Although indeed these documents showcased quite a lot of enlightening information on the business of this building as early as the fifteenth century, there was nothing that could connect to the statue. In the years that they speculated the statue must have been carved, there was a large blank in the row of names, Erminia admitting that the documents concerning that particular family were lost. The owners who held it afterward found no use to keep them as that blank family barely spent any time there and was only using the building as some sort of storage or even a study. 

Ludwig groaned to his hand at this, settling off to sleep decided that he would visit the museum the next morning.

 

With all the pass keys he was given, Ludwig went right inside the museum, carrying his bags and walking about as if it was all his owing and home. All greeted him like he was but another of the staff, not minding at all as he went straight to the basement and straight to where they kept the Angel of Venice. Lucky for him, he had had the room all to himself, and as he checked the scheduling, turns out there wouldn’t be anybody down in this room for about two days. Perfect, he would use that time to the best of his abilities. 

He took out everything; papers, files, documents, his laptop, gloves, spray, some snacks, even a thin blanket and pillow…if he had to stay there until he had some new kind of answer, so be it. He had everything organized well enough in one of the many tables presented, its direction towards the statue, a perfect angle for Ludwig to capture in all its graciousness, only for him, only for him to inspect and be sure that the decade they decided was the one that it actually was. He prepared his gloves and took one of the many inspecting utensils, coming forward and beginning this new search. 

In the process he realized that he was in fact taller than the statue, which meant it was easier for him to move around him without the help of a mini escalator, the only difficult part being the hand that rose upward above his head. He made sure to take in every detail, every dirt, every form, he taped, he heard, he let the gloved hand feel across every expanse, every bend, every depth and fullness. He rid of some stains that the staff had forgotten, shined some parts that could be manageable, the tiniest part exposing more of what he needed. He let himself map the statue in his mind with just its tact, spending all the necessary hours he needed until everything was well explored. He kept a notebook he constantly returned to, panning out all the details, pairing them all up to a movement, a year it was mostly used, going back to his computer to check through documents, articles, journals and other eBooks to be sure. 

It was late, twenty-three, the museum closed to the public and Ludwig was just riding his gloves, with no answers but the same ones the interns had decided. No matter what he inspected today, it only assured that it was those years that were blank in the documents. He groaned and threw the gloves harshly to the table, calming his breaths, wanting to bring his mind to a better focus, to a new angle to look at this. 

Maybe he needed better lighting, maybe less, maybe he should look under it, maybe he should take a piece and send it to a lab for inspection or maybe he could just try again. This time he left the gloves on the table and dared himself to use his simple tact, with heat and nerves to feel it to better detail. This was surely not allowed and if Ludwig was being honest, he would have the person who dare touch it unprotected fired and never to step on the museum again…but he had to try every way, besides, he was the main archeologist for the statue, surely things like this were allowed as long as he was careful, quick and he could clean it well before any x-rays could notice. 

His inspection began once again, the softness of the marble now fresh for his palm, cold, surprisingly smooth, moving on ahead in such a way that Ludwig’s mind was left blank. What was he doing this for again? All his mind held was the form, the sudden indecency, noticing how seductive those thighs were formed, the extend of his legs that his hands went down on for no apparent reason. A hand wrapped itself around the waist of the figure, the soft stomach just as alluring, perfection, beauty. There was suddenly no duty, no job, but a kind of loving that made him forget that he was letting himself be swayed by an old statue, even resting into his neck, his body tightening to it, to just about every part of him dedicated to this exploration and odd application. It was intimate, somehow he could feel heat, the statue’s hardness for a moment the soft of real skin, taking breaths, alive in his arms to be that sudden lover he could enjoy for the night. 

Once his eyes opened, meeting with the dullness of those empty sockets did he really come into the realization of what he was doing. He sighed, disappointed in how he let himself act on such a sudden and passionate impulse. What if someone came in and saw him like that? He would definitely be ridiculed. 

He looked down to his watch, realizing how late it was, at least being assured that no one would be at the museum but perhaps some inspecting guard. He sighed, readying himself for a night he would remain awake for. He picked his laptop, settled closer to the angel and continued on marking off years and putting in any he had an idea about, comparing with other statues he had worked with and trying other guesses. 

The last time he had checked, it had been about two a.m. when he started drifting, swiveling from side to side trying to keep his composure, but the rest on the floor won and soon he found himself in that lay. Uncomfortable it was but it was the most peaceful sleep he managed in his position. 

He had done enough, he had time the next day to go on. He was already advancing more than most in this museum. What could a harmless lay do now? 

He let himself be engulfed completely, missing the shine, the blinding light and suddenly the movement and the first starting breath after hundreds of years. 

 

The artificial lighting seemed to glow more intensely, annoyingly so and no matter the shadow over him, he could still feel the burning throughout his whole body, especially after he had laid on the floor for the night. His head felt incredibly comfortable though, lying upon something soft, warm, and even a nice scent. He didn’t recall taking his pillow…actually, who was tracing the front of his hair? The fingers were velvety, lulling, they tempted Ludwig to rest on and for a moment he was a victim of that pull…until he noticed the naked creamy thighs he was surrounded with. 

He stood urgently and with an alarming shout, not expecting to see the young man who was knelt on the floor, naked, only a single thin fabric covering the indecency. He seemed quite relaxed as Ludwig quickly adjusted himself, leaning his head, confused on the articles of clothes Ludwig fixed, on the tables and chairs he tried to hold himself in his panic, at the lights that shone above, the simplicity of this room with weirder gadgets in the corners that seemed to come from the imaginative sketches of his masters. 

“What is this? What are you doing here?” Ludwig fretted, dreading that he didn’t remember where he put his cellphone or where that damn button was to call security. 

“Cosa stai dicendo?” The intruder still asked, his eyes and expression as lost as a child would be, his bronze eyes solely on Ludwig as if expecting him to answer more clearly now and explain what happened. 

Ludwig managed to find his phone between a pile of papers he was reading during the night and quickly settled on dialing the first number that appeared. In the waiting rings he finally took notice of something that should had been clear the moment he awoke. 

The statue…it wasn’t there, and as he turned around, it was nowhere, no trace, no remnants, the only thing that sat on its closest spot was the strange naked boy. In his anger and growing desperation, he hanged up the call and slapped it harshly on the table. 

“Where is it?” He threatened, pointing menacingly. 

The boy jumped, easily trembling, crawling back, whimpering even. He looked very close to crying and for a single moment Ludwig felt pity, for a second calming before the emptiness of the room reminded him of what this boy was suspected of doing. 

“Don’t act like such a fool and tell me this instant where you hid it. This is nothing to be using to play games and it can cost you gravely. Now, please, before this-” as he gazed on to the boy he began to notice something rather astonishing. Take out the tears that were shinning his eyes, take out the warmth, the colors, the movements…the boy looked remarkably like… no, foolish, no possible way. 

“What kind of trick are you playing?” An exaggerated performance it had to be. Was he being tapped? Did his older brother decide to get back on him this badly? 

“Signore, per favore, Io non so di che sta parlando o dove sto,” the boy continued to tremble, tears evident, still Ludwig not falling to whatever highly develop farce they were making. 

“Inglese?” Ludwig tried to connect, but the boy still negated in a nervous shake. He sighed desperately and tried another language, “Deutsch?” 

To his surprise, the boy actually nodded, responding, “ein bisschen.” 

“What are you doing here then?” He continued to ask as menacingly in his native tongue. 

“I-I don’t know, I-I really, really don’t remember that well,” he continued to sob in broken German. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Vicious, on the brink on throwing himself on him and demanding more. 

Drunk, this boy must have been drunk then. 

The boy shook even more, practically laying on the floor defenseless, arms over himself as some sort of protection. “I can’t! I can’t! All I remember is my name and some vague details. I wish I could tell you more, but really, I can’t! Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me!” The boy pleaded enough for Ludwig to give up into. 

Okay, perhaps he was some escaped loon, maybe the most elaborate prank in his life. Whatever it was, now it should surely end. Yet there was the boy still in his tears, shaking, and now he was getting cold. Curse his sympathy. 

He went to the table to get a coat to drape over him, the boy taking instant grab and warmth of it. It stilled the shaking, helping along with bringing calm to the room, for Ludwig to think, to inspect. 

Okay, Ludwig would have surely awakened with the ruckus it should take to move a statue like the Angel of Venice out of this highly secured room. If he hadn’t, then surely guards would have noticed, and alarms would have rung enough as another emergency awakening. He checked his phone again and he was sent absolutely nothing concerning any disappearance with the statue. 

Maybe it was placed elsewhere in the room, but there was just no other kind of storage or locker. It wasn’t stolen, it wasn’t misplaced, there were no messages alerting him of it, and his eyes fell on the boy again. 

The boy was back to his trembling with the blond man’s intense glare, hiding deeper into the coat he had given him. 

“What’s your name?” Ludwig went back to interrogating. 

“Fe-Feli-Feliciano,” he at least managed to utter. 

“Full name!” 

“I…I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know? It’s your family name!” 

“I-I’m sorry, but I don’t remember it!” 

“How could you possibly-” he had gotten too loud, harsh, he even raised his hands in desperation which surely sent wrong signals to the boy. He cowered once again and completely covered himself in the jacket, cocooned, only shivers and sobs escaping. 

Ludwig took a breath, heading away from his direction to get a moment to order himself again. 

Breathe, breathe, reasonable explanations, reasonable explanations, he kept thinking to himself. 

“Where are you from?” He went back. 

Feliciano replied with a heavy negative nod under his shield. 

“How did you get here?” 

The same nod. 

“What can you actually remember?” He couldn’t hold his angered tone, getting a shriek from the other. 

“That my name is Feliciano and uh…I remember waking up here.” The boy peeked to look about the room, the same lost expression, but igniting curiosity. 

“Anything before that?” 

Silence as Feliciano really tried to dive into his mind to get some sort of clue, but the same image kept repeating. 

“I remember um… a painting room…” 

“A painting room?” 

“Mhm…and…a lot of scattering, someone is angry and…” he really tried to make more sense of it, but that only memory was still much of a blur he couldn’t decipher. 

“And?” Ludwig still expected. 

“I…can’t…remember anything else.” He trembled expecting the blonde’s anger to expand to its worst, this time truly expecting a hit, and so he reverted to the protection of the jacket. 

Ludwig only groaned highly, his hands keeping a harsh hold of the near table. He was tempted to throw it over, but such a disastrous situation was avoided by a sudden knock against the door. 

“Mr. Beilschmidt?” Someone asked. 

His panic only intensified, petrified to the spot, only turning his gaze to the boy, who perked from the jacket at the voice of another. 

The knock repeated. “Mr. Beilschmidt, is everything all right?” 

“Ye-yes, everything is fine.” Goddamn the trembling as he turned from the boy to the door. 

“Are you sure? They told me you were here all night. Do you need anything?” 

“Uh, no, no, I have everything, thank you.” 

“I still need to come in and make sure. May I open the door?” 

He had to be quick, his eyes in a fretful search throughout the room hoping for any sudden idea. His eyes landed on a folded white blanket in one of the tables. Perfect. 

Trying that his quickened steps weren’t hard, he picked it up and headed to the boy, harshly picking him up by the arm and dragging him to where the statue was originally standing. Feliciano held back and tried to go back to the shell of his jacket. 

“Listen to me!” Ludwig commanded through gritted teeth, flaring and tightening the hold he had of him. Feliciano was compliant, albeit because of the deep fear Ludwig instilled. “I’m going to put you in a position, and I need you to stay in it and not make a single movement.” He had studied the statue enough, he knew exactly how to capture it with this sudden model, Feliciano easily moving to Ludwig’s pulls until he was in a decided stand. Ludwig moved back, trying to ignore the fact that he was completely naked, the fabric under him with no possible way to keep it breezing in the air. He didn’t have the wings or halo either, but hopefully the visitor wouldn’t question it. As Ludwig gazed, he saw more of the proof on how Feliciano was an exact replica of the statue. He fitted to the image of white marble, that light that came bouncing reflecting him in heavenly glow, like magic that reminded him…no, no, no. He groaned at believing such nonsense. 

The knocking again. “Sir? Is there somebody there? I heard some speaking earlier.” 

“Oh, I’m just…” he quickly placed the blanket over Feliciano, making sure he was covered well before he gave the approval, “you can come in.” 

In an instant a guard entered, inspecting well the room before his gaze finally landed on Ludwig. “Ah, you’re well.” 

“Yes, um, sorry, I was having a call with my secretary.” 

“Not a problem, just making sure.” And then his eyes landed on the draped statue. “What happened?” 

“Was clearing some dust and covered the statue to protect it,” he excused. 

“All right. Are you sure you don’t need anything?” 

Couldn’t he just leave? 

“I’m perfectly fine. I’ll call Bonnefoy if I need anything.” 

The guard gave him thumbs up and one last smile before he shut the door. He gave a couple of more seconds before he could take a breath of relief, then quickly freeing Feliciano from the blanket. Feliciano understood enough to break out from the position, freeing his arms and legs from the strain, even if it still felt like he had been in it for such a long time. 

“Let’s get straight to the point. Are you the statue?” He thought he could start to get that nonsense out of the way. 

“The statue? What?” He was just as lost. 

“The statue, the Angel of Venice.” 

Still the same confusion and lost look in his eyes. Ludwig groaned yet again. This was getting hopeless. 

An idea shone suddenly, one that would prove whatever dream was taking place. He sighed, they would have to wait. 

“Are you hungry?” 

Feliciano perked with such a glow that he might as well flown to the ceiling. He nodded, with a wide smile that showed more than enough eagerness. Of course. 

 

Luckily the museum had a cafeteria, with a variety of selections and Ludwig decided on taking as much as possible. He received weird looks over the large bag he was hauling across the museum halls but halted their curiosities by saying he was just hungry. 

Ludwig had told Feliciano to remain in the covers of the blanket for if anyone came, but he did his best to arrive as quickly as possible. He placed every package on one of the tables, the boy instantly curious in just…the plastics, the lettering, trying to read an Italian so different from what he knew. While Ludwig settled on some packaged tagliatelle with mushroom, bacon and chicken, Feliciano poked his pesto rosso pasta with the plastic fork…that he had stared to just as perplexed. Every little thing was a new discovery to him, from the vibration in Ludwig’s cellphone, the opening card to the room, the water bottles and just the rest of the foods he had brought. Ludwig assumed he had gotten typical things from Italy, but some tastes exploded wonderfully anew in Feliciano’s tongue, undiscovered and unfamiliar, getting him more gluttonous to try more and more. 

“That’s…panna cotta,” Ludwig explained to the new dessert in Feliciano’s hand. He kept poking it with his spoon, playing with the elasticity, raising it to his nose to smell, wondering for the longest while. 

“It’s sweet like…cake.” It was enough of a persuasion to get him to try, and like all the rest of the plates, he had glowed, smiling wide and swinging his feet. It had basically been this for the entire day, that panna cotta the last of what Ludwig had brought. He looked to all the empty bowls and plastic pieces, hoping to get some new idea to keep them entertained in the meantime. Night was finally approaching, Ludwig taking notice with the clock in his phone or just how tired he was starting to get. 

“Um…sir?” Feliciano instigated for once. 

“What?” Ludwig didn’t mean to sound so harsh and annoyed. 

Feliciano shook, but after focusing on the warmth of the jacket he still wore, he breathed and braved enough to continue. “Can I…Can I know your name?” 

“Ludwig,” he answered coldly. 

“Ludwig?” Feliciano tested it out well in his tongue. 

“Ludwig Beilschmidt. What is the need of knowing?” 

“I just…wanted to properly address you,” he shied. 

Ludwig sighed, after all it would be needed depending on what this outcome could mean. He still wanted to hope that it was after all nonsense and that this boy was just playing with him and would give him back the statue. As his mind returned to the statue, instantly it went back to the questioning he had been working on for the last few days, still going on with his wondering. 

If this boy turned out to be the ridiculousness it could be…he had the chance to have all the answers easily handed to him. If he could get him to remember…to crack everything to create the opening to let this be the find of the decade, he would get millions and recognitions unbelievable. 

“You really don’t remember your surname?” He asked. If he knew, perhaps he could find it in the documents. 

“Va…Va…” He really tried to think. 

“I really need you to try hard.” Ludwig even neared, ready to catch that answer he could get. 

“Val…Vale…” It was as if his mind had frozen, actually his entire being began to freeze in that very stand his last whisper took. 

The bottle Ludwig was holding fell to the floor in the shock of what he saw next. 

Like a sprinkling of dust, he saw himself as parts of the boy’s skin began to take the familiar grey and white of marble, a spreading that continued from his sides, to his legs, chest and face. There was a dim light to signify the completion and once again Ludwig was standing face to face with the Angel of Venice. 

The panna cotta had fallen without the balance of human movement, yet now the statue sat exactly as he had last enjoyed from the dessert, halo and wings back on him, a new piece of fabric over him, the elder one gone from the spot Ludwig had placed it on. 

After various minutes of astounded staring…Ludwig settled on slapping himself repeatedly. 

No, he didn’t awaken, the statue was there, as the last form the boy took, and the fantasy he had thought could be a possibility turned out to be the reality. Of course, a cascade of questions bombarded instantly on his minds and he didn’t know which should be addressed first. He had to fight through the headache as he had to continue to think and straighten what the hell was going on. In his disarray, he noticed that Feliciano didn’t take his original position, which meant that once again he had had to hide him until he transformed …if it did happen again. Still, precautions needed to be taken and a plan must be instantly set into motion. He had one simple idea he could start with and he had to leave immediately to get it to work well. Bless his strength and that he could move Feliciano to his original spot, blanket over him, taken his key card with him and already an idea of what to tell Francis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had been done for a while, as in…almost a year done, but the time it took me to edit was…ugh! I’m trying to find a way to do so quicker. Hopefully the next one won’t take months. I hope you enjoy!

“You…want to take the statue to Munich?” 

“Only for some time while I continue with my research.” Ludwig stood proudly and strong, masking whatever nervousness well and determined to meet the ends he wanted. From the moment he came into the room, Francis knew that it would be impossible to deny what he was bound to ask. 

“How long will this… ‘time’ take?” 

“A month, maybe two.” 

“What exactly do you want to do with it in Munich?” A female assistant asked. 

“Take it to my own team of researchers,” he lied, but he planted it well enough, his expression not cracking and only showing his usual intent. 

“Aren’t ours sufficient enough?” Francis seemed slightly insulted. 

“No, I will just feel more comfortable with my own. We can work together to come to a better outcome and provide you quicker and better results.” 

Francis and his assistant looked between themselves, in that exchange a silent conversation of concerns and doubts. Francis sighed, “I can give you a couple of weeks. Afterwards we have to prepare for a Paris exhibition I already signed it for.” 

Not what Ludwig would have preferred but he nodded. 

“I’ll…speak to the others. You have to sign documents that assure me that you will place it in a safe environment with all the necessary tools. I’ll arrange transportation and-” 

“There’s no need for that. I’ll work on it myself.” 

“How?” 

“I have a van, I can take it to Germany myself,” he lied once again. 

“This is not…how we usually do things around here, Ludwig,” Francis worried. 

“You want answers, don’t you?” 

Francis went silent, but these were the words to get him to sign the documents needed with the permission for Ludwig to take the statue with him. He left the office with a prideful stride, heading then to the streets of the city to get some clothes. 

 

He headed back to the museum in the night, just before it was closed to the public. He hoped no one would pay notice or question the clothing brand bags he brought, bringing them to room 1317 without further delay. Luckily, no one else had reported entrance. He noticed slight rustling from under the blanket he had originally placed on the statue. He pulled it off and no longer was the statue there, but the frightened boy from the day before. 

“Wear this,” he commanded, dropping the bag on his feet, turning and beginning to pick up his things into their bags. He expected to turn and spot Feliciano dressed and ready that instant to head off, instead, he was met by that shapely backside that left him blinded in impression and attraction for a moment. 

He groaned and shut his eyes to not let himself fall. “Are you done?” 

“Um…” He peeked to notice the other holding to the pair of jeans, extending them out and staring up and down in deep confusion. 

“Never seen a pair of jeans before?” 

“Uh…no.” 

Of course. 

Ludwig wasted a good ten minutes just explaining the different pieces he got him and later helping him into those jeans, loose shirt and sport shoes. Feliciano spent a good amount of time just feeling the fabric over his body, testing out the squeaks of his new shoes, moving about and testing his body in their coverage. 

With all his things set, Ludwig gazed out into the halls. Empty. They had to move now. 

“Come on,” he ushered. When Feliciano remained fearful, Ludwig settled on the harsh hold of his arm and pulling him about. Feliciano only made this harder by faltering, his eyes on everything, a hundred fascinations and questions all attacking him at once with the countless of new things he saw. He constantly tried to stop Ludwig to get better views, but Ludwig would have no sort of stalling. So far, he hadn’t met with anyone in the halls leading to the parking lot in the back and was ready to bless whatever entity for giving him easy escape, that was until he reached that final desk. 

“Ah, Signore Beilschmidt, you got everything?” The woman asked kindly. 

“Yes, yes, everything is ready. I’ll be parting to Munich right now.” He really tried to hurry past her, but curse Feliciano’s staring and wondering that had the woman staring back. “Intern from my research group. He was helping with the hauling.” She didn’t find any strength in the boy for that, but couldn’t question further as Ludwig flew past her and out the building to his car. 

At such machine, Feliciano was close to shouting, but Ludwig pushed him to the passenger seat before anything else. 

“Wha-what-what is this?” Feliciano asked, fear in his tone, afraid of every touch he gave, even to that of his seat. 

“It’s just a car.” 

“A car?” 

“It’s a mode of transportation.” That didn’t solve anything and Feliciano remained as fretful. “It’s not dangerous, nothing is going to happen,” he said as he turned on the engine, releasing a roar that made Feliciano jump and shout. 

“It’s just the engine!” 

“The what?” 

Ludwig groaned, decided on not answering for now and pulling out the car from the spot and out. To his surprise, Feliciano remained rather silent for the trip, just touching and poking things around the car until he was slowly getting used to the vehicle. He played with the seatbelt, the compartments, the stick, the buttons of the radio, blasting different kinds of music at different levels. That’s when Ludwig had it and scolded him harshly for it, convincing him to just sit and distract himself with the views the road offered. 

“Where are we?” He asked after the long silence that had settled. 

“We’ll soon be entering Alto-Adige.” 

“Alto-Adige? You mean…were still in the peninsula?” 

“The Italian peninsula? Yes, we’re still in Italy.” 

“It…doesn’t look at all like it.” There was disappointment as he gazed to passing cars, the buildings that rose, those many lights, the only familiarity being some of the old villages they passed or the ruined castles at the top of hills. 

They weren’t…ruined like that, he remembered somehow. 

“What…what year is it?” He found himself questioning. 

“It’s…2019,” Ludwig let it fall easily, fearing how he could react to it. 

Surely, he must have lived in a completely different time era if he couldn’t recognize the things around him. The shock was clear in the width of his eyes, in even the sudden grip he took in the seat. “What?” He was hiding from screaming and shouting surely. 

“Yes, it’s…2019.” He pointed to the number on his phone, on the radio, even on a passing billboard. 

“It’s…it’s…it’s not possible, how could…how could…so much time have passed.” 

Ludwig didn’t know how to answer, but only continue to question with his curiosity. “What year was it the last time you checked?” 

“1620,” he answered instantly, impressed for a moment that he suddenly remembered it. 

Ludwig gave an instant halt to the car, pushing them forward and surely causing more fear to Feliciano with this mechanism. 

“1620?” He was astounded in two ways. Pity for the boy who now had to live a time era completely different from his with no current chance of return, and also…1620…that’s already 17th century, much later than most had assumed the statue was carved in. Wanting to check the ownership documents of the store building immediately, he settled them back on movement, in his thoughts leaving the car once again in silence. 

It was a five-hour drive to Munich, much spent in nothing…until certain moments where Feliciano started questioning and Ludwig tried to inform as much to the point as he could. He really wanted to keep to his thoughts. He had focused on now new artists to check, new families in the documents to investigate. Was he carved? Had he been an actual person? If so, then who did this and what was the reason for it? Why did it awaken now? As they arrived to Germany, Ludwig was coming with a new formed headache with new questions that didn’t even have to do with the original. Finally, he halted the car before his apartment building, lush to his era, too new and futuristic for Feliciano’s. Ludwig got a quick hold of all the bags he needed, with even space to open the door for Feliciano, who remained frozen in his seat. He had been terrified of the car at the beginning of their road trip and now he was scared to leave it. Ludwig answered to it with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. “My home is inside, it’s where we’ll be staying in the meantime.” Protective still, Feliciano took easy steps outside, arms against his chest, readying for if any of the near cars, the very buildings, even the trees tried to attack him. He was walking forward at least, well right behind Ludwig as he led him. 

Ludwig quickly took his key, into the halls, up the stairs and then a new key to enter his apartment. It was clean, well-organized, not a thing out place, decorated in browns and whites that gave a rather warm feeling of home that brought instant ease to Feliciano. He felt comfortable enough to take brave steps around the entrance space, intrigued in some old maps and books that framed a part of the wall. 

“Make yourself at home, just don’t touch anything. Most of these items are antiques, centuries old, delicate and rare. I gave them a lot of studies, care and even investment…so don’t you dare break anything,” he warned, placing the things he held on the table, looking about the living room and thinking in which spaces to place them. 

“You can take whatever you want from the kitchen, use the bathroom how you wish and watch whatever you like on TV.” 

“TV?” 

“I’ll explain later.” Actually, it was probably best not to get him into that. 

“I’ll be doing some calls and checking some things in my computer-” not that he will even understand what that is “-I have some macadamias, if you want I can make you some hot chocolate, maybe eggs and bacon-” there was a sudden shine, the disappearance of a presence, utter silence when there should be insisting questions. He turned himself away from the cabinets and found the statue yet again. This time it took a moving stance to the windows, a frozen marveled hand reaching to try and open the curtains. 

This was his second time watching this and yet he reacted as startled as the first time. He had almost forgotten about this process about him. 

He left all the things he had suggested by the counter and decided on moving him to an area where he wouldn’t be spotted by the window. His statue form was heavy, and he already hated that he would have to get used to doing this every time. 

 

“What is it?” Roderich had answered to the call rather rudely in Ludwig’s opinion. 

“There’s…something I have to show you,” Ludwig started, gaze watchful on the statue that he now placed by the hall. He was still questioning if it was all right to be telling his cousin. 

“Then send me a picture. You are aware that your cellphone can do that?” 

Ludwig rolled his eyes and groaned. “You have to come see it in person.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“I’m in Munich right now and Salzburg is a car ride away. I’m sure you can take some time.” 

“How important is it?” 

“It has to do with the statue.” 

“And with my pay?” 

If it would get him to get here, “In a way.” 

He heard a groan, some rustling, but Roderich came with an answer he wanted. “I’ll see if I can arrive tomorrow.” 

“Great.” He hung up before any other change could take place. 

Should he do this? Should he do this? He kept repeating to himself as he rubbed his face, direction and stare on only the statue, naked, clothes off…he had to get him on something for when he turned back. 

As he kept on thinking of more complications, he kept realizing that he would need an extra hand to help. He thought it best to tell someone of family and the only other he worked closely too. Roderich’s own research and analysis were ones he admired and had even determined his chance of being his assistant. Perhaps he could suggest, perhaps he could bring new breakthroughs. He could bring him a breather, he thought as he decided on finally resting for the night. A very needed one since the discovery. He landed well under his covers and shut off instantly without another movement or conscious thought. 

 

It was three main things that had awaked him the next morning. One was the heavy sunlight that entered through the curtains he forgot to shut off well the night over. Another was a heavier dip on the bed, another presence, a nearing that his body could feel along with different breaths that were not his own. And finally, there was that caress on his hair, that oh so lovely one that tempted him to continue in his laying. His questioning over where it was coming from was what made him slowly awaken, meeting the beauty of an angel, smiling with glow, naked as by fantasy…wait, he was naked. 

“Feliciano…” he remembered with a groan. 

“Hm?” Feliciano childishly reacted, comfortable and well laid on his bed beside him. 

“What are you doing here in my bed?” He tried to hide much of his anger in whatever tiredness he still possessed. 

“It looked really comfortable and you looked really nice. I wanted to join you,” he told innocently, laying his head well on the pillow beside him, perfectly content. 

“That’s sweet of you…but I find it extremely annoying, so please…don’t get into my bed unannounced again,” Ludwig told rather calmly, which didn’t work for Feliciano to leave. He remained in his spot, only a small look of hurt in his expression. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s unbecoming.” He decided to stand that moment, already beginning his fixing, heading to the bathroom to prepare his visit from Roderich. When he headed out, meaning to get his clothes for the day, he met Feliciano still laying as comfortably in his bed, outstretched and showing himself all completely without a care. 

“What are you doing? Come on, start getting changed!” He taught him enough at the museum. 

Feliciano responded with a loud yawn, turning and only taking more of the blankets in an embrace. It left his backside bared completely for Ludwig to witness and he almost choked at the sight. 

Oh no, not because he was disgusted, on the contrary, it was because it was too shapely, shinning and beautiful. 

“Get. Changed,” he growled, forcing himself to look away. 

“But this is so comfortable, and your neighbor doesn’t seem to mind it.” 

“My neighbor?” That’s when he noticed that the curtains were wide open, meeting with the very neighbor that stared on to Feliciano, a mixture of emotions of both shock and intrigue. Feliciano dared send her a wink, the last thing the woman will take notice of before Ludwig pulled back the curtains. 

“Please, don’t do that!” He scolded. “I don’t know what you did in the 1610s, but nowadays, you don’t expose yourself and let anybody gawk at you.” He made sure the curtains were well shut before he headed into the closet. By the time he came out, Feliciano sat disappointedly. Ludwig threw him the bag of clothes he had bought, hoping he got the message of dressing before he went to prepare breakfast. 

He was almost done with the French toast when a visitor barged in, in the comforts he was used to after his constant visits. 

“Can this be quick?” Roderich was dressed immaculate in a suit, throwing his extra jacket to the sofa along with a bag he had brought. 

“Take it easy. Did you have breakfast?” 

“Just some yogurt I ate on the way.” 

Ludwig pushed forward a plate of fruits he had already ordered, then adding one of the French toasts. 

“Ah, thank you.” He immediately started while Ludwig prepared the other two plates. “Whose here?” 

“That’s…what I wanted you here to talk about.” Ludwig turned nervous, a clear hesitation in his entire being that didn’t let Roderich continue with his plate. He sat straight and pushed the plate aside, motioning with his hand that he could proceed with whatever this could be. 

“Feliciano!” Ludwig called. 

Quick footsteps brought a boy forward into the open hall and kitchen. Roderich startled at how half-dressed this boy presented himself, with only an opened sleeved shirt and red tight boxers. This brunet didn’t seem to mind, only staring curiously to the new presence that seemed he could share in, which brought him forward a smile, wondering how he could start a chat with him. 

“Um…” Roderich was confused. 

“Well?” Ludwig thought it could be obvious in the first glance, but Roderich continued to be stunned. 

“Is…this your way of telling me that you’re finally out of the closet…and have a thing for youthful looking Italians.” 

Ludwig turned red all over and insult was read enough in the sudden jump he took. “No! Can’t you recognize him?” He pointed harsher, wanting to help and make it clearer. 

“He…doesn’t look like anyone we know,” Roderich shrugged. 

“No! Doesn’t he look like something?” 

“Oh, Ludwig, just spit it out already, I don’t need these games!” 

“The statue! Doesn’t he look like the statue?” Ludwig finally had it, at a brink of screaming. 

Finally understanding, Roderich stood, walking forward to inspect Ludwig’s claim. The closer he came, the more he could recognize those very features, his hair, his youth, his body that was bared enough for him to find the same structure…as the angel of Venice. 

“How did you…why did you…what…what is the meaning of this, Ludwig?” Roderich demanded. 

“This is going to sound crazy, but just hear me out, let me explain-” 

“Is the researching that desperate you actually got a model that looks exactly like the statue!” 

“No, it’s not that! This is actually the statue!” And Ludwig pointed sure to the boy who stood in fear to these shouts and accusations having to do with his own persona. 

Roderich suddenly calmed, serious, perturbed. “Ludwig…what is this absurdity?” 

“Roderich, when have I ever been someone to make up something like this? I’m being serious!” 

Roderich was not convinced, looking to Feliciano as if he was apologizing for this mad behavior. 

“Feliciano tell him!” 

“To be honest, I’m still just as confused, sir,” he admitted as much. 

“You speak German?” Roderich distracted in impression. “How do you know?” 

“I…don’t remember.” 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” 

“All I know is…waking up in a white lighted room with…Ludwig.” And to Ludwig that was the beginning of his truth, one Roderich noticed, giving at least that admission to Ludwig…but he was still perplexed and cautious. 

“What else…?” Roderich decided to question. 

“I…can’t…I can’t remember anything else other than that.” 

“What about your name?” 

“Feliciano.” 

“Feliciano what?” 

“I…can’t…” 

Roderich turned to Ludwig expecting those answer from him, but Ludwig shook his head in a negative. 

“And that’s it?” 

“He said it himself, he can’t remember anything.” 

“Are you plotting some ridiculous trick?” 

“I swear, Roderich! This is all the truth.” 

“This boy could just be an amnesiac teenager, not a statue come to life! You’re both crazy!” He admitted harshly. 

“I’m actually twenty.” 

“He’s twenty, Roderich…wait, you’re twenty?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Did you just…remember it?” 

“…I did…yes! I know! I know! I’m twenty!” 

“You look quite young.” Roderich was impressed. “A lot of the researchers had placed you around sixteen.” 

“He remembered being turned in 1620.” 

“1620? That’s more than what they said! Why, it’s possible that it won’t even count as a renaissance work anymore.” 

“What’s the renaissance?” 

“It’s a period of art that we historians like to study that took place just before- why am I partaking in this nonsense? You’re both still a mess and I am not convinced. This is clearly some kind of mental disease,” Roderich still tried to pinpoint. 

“I thought the same when I found out! But I saw him myself turn into the statue and back! Do you honestly believe I would waste my and your time making something up like this! You have to believe me!” 

“Then prove it!” 

“Very well.” Ludwig took his stool and went on with his breakfast, angry but mundane. He ushered Feliciano to join his side, a plate with food already placed, items that were odd to the boy, analyzing them as if they were some rarity he found outside. 

“It’s sweetened bread with oranges, grapes and apple slices,” Ludwig had to explain. Yet Feliciano poked everything, testing them in the hold of his fork before he brought to his mouth to eat, humming at the taste he enjoyed. It was too domestic when they just admitted to something of fiction novels. 

“Wait…wait for what?” Roderich still demanded angrily. 

“Your proof! At some point he’ll be transforming again, and I want you to see it and tell me I’m not crazy.” Ludwig waved his fork and knife around in the explanation, ending with taking his next pieces to his mouth. 

With incredulous stares Roderich settled how he could in breakfast, in a simple chat with Feliciano about how his first car trip was like. The boy then distracted himself with an astrological chart Ludwig hanged in another hall, completely leaving Roderich in the middle of their conversation. He didn’t mind it, this was his chance to speak to Ludwig in hushes and privacy. 

“Okay, now tell me what’s really going on?” He whispered harshly. 

“What’s going on, it’s what I’ve told you. Just…wait a bit! And you’ll believe me, I swear!” Ludwig whispered back as harshly. 

“Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?! I’m this close to getting you into a psychotic ward.” 

Ludwig groaned and he only repeated, Roderich fighting against these ideas with the same threats and only trying to bring more sense. 

“He’s probably just a lost boy! His family could be desperately trying to find him and here he is, waltzing around half naked without a care. We should report this,” was Roderich’s new suggestion. 

“Roderich…” Ludwig groaned out yet again, all this just bringing him a headache. 

“Ludwig! You could be accused of kidnapping and sexual harassment! Let’s just…mention his name, explain that he was delusional or drunk and got into the museum!” 

“We don’t even have his full name!” 

“I’m sure a simple search through church archives can suffice,” Roderich was sure, already holy buildings in his head he could visit. 

“Roderich! It’s- wait…church archives?” Ludwig was getting ideas. 

“When a child is baptized, the church creates a file for that child and keeps it well in their records. You can find documents even from the middle ages.” 

“So…we can try to find his.” Ludwig gazed over to Feliciano, who was now distracted with sliding his finger around some metal plate souvenir he got from New York City. 

Roderich sighed, “if your nonsense was right, then sure, it’s possible.” 

“Would you be able to do it?” 

“I suppose, shouldn’t be that- wha-what, what is going on?” The panic was wide in Roderich’s eyes, along with the growing familiarity of the transforming light. Ludwig turned just in time to see the light consume as it usually did, slowly leaving behind flesh and turning it all into the stationary form of marble. It was over quick, and finally Roderich could see the famed Angel of Venice, taking along with him Feliciano. Ludwig grinned while Roderich remained shock, breathless, every word choked out of him, keeping him still, as frozen as the boy turned in his statue form. 

“You see,” Ludwig presented, and yet Roderich refused to answer, only giving him a quick glance before it was back on the statue. 

“Oh god…what…what…what…” 

“Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to calm down after seeing this! Oh my heaven, what is this? Oh god, yes! A dream! Surely a dream!” He snapped his fingers and looked up as if calling his body to rise from its bed. No such awakening ever came, he continued to find himself in the same place, everything as it was…oh god, it was actually happening. 

It took Ludwig until the late afternoon to get Roderich to finally cool down, the Austrian laying quite dramatically on the couch, sipping on the glass of water he was given like it was the last one. 

“I have so many questions,” Roderich whispered with pain, rubbing his fingers on his temple, his head pulsing. 

“I’ve known longer about this and I still don’t understand even half of what’s going on,” Ludwig admitted. 

“How long has it been…doing this?” Roderich decide to begin with the simple things he assumed Ludwig already knew at least. 

“Four days.” 

“What did you do?” 

“I don’t know! I was just touching it!” 

“You were touching it!” Roderich angered. 

A statue like that was not meant to be handled in any kind of way. Even Ludwig’s touch could have been a danger to its texture. 

“I was trying to analyze him! I was using gloves, being really careful as usual…but then I…” 

“Please do not tell me you touched it bare handed.” 

The silent that came told Roderich enough. 

“Ludwig…” Roderich groaned, his headache returning. 

“Nothing happened to it!” 

“Oh no, nothing happened…he just…came to life and is now prancing about with us!” 

“I didn’t think this would happen!” 

“Because it’s not supposed to! This is all…this all…agh!” Roderich shouted into his hands. He breathed, ordered himself, and continued. “So…after you…touched him, this happened. How long till he comes back to life?” 

“I’m still…trying to see. It’s ever shifting. Sometimes it can last till the next day, others just a couple of hours. I can’t really pinpoint it or tell you something exact.” 

“And like you said…he doesn’t remember anything?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Not even how this happened to him?” 

“Roderich, when I first met him, he could only remember his name. Sometimes he gets reminded of little details, like his age, and the last year he lived through. But it’s sudden and slow.” 

Roderich hummed in thought. “It seems like we’ll have to wait,” he was starting to get, his gaze then on the frozen statue, silent as he kept concocting. 

“Just…wait?” Ludwig thought that there was instead much to do. He thought they should be out there that instant getting whatever trace possible, going through archives, decoding, finding…not just…stay there and wait for it all to just…arrive. 

“Truth is, Ludwig, if he can’t remember anything, there’s not much we can do but let his memory slowly arrive as it had done with those details.” For once Roderich had calmed and was thinking rationally, but his fingers kept taping the couch for ideas. 

“You mentioned about checking church archives,” Ludwig reminded. 

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking, but for that we need to know where he was born.” 

“Well, in the meantime, we can check if he was born in Venice. He last remembers 1620 and he is twenty, so that means he must have been born in 1600.” 

Roderich sighed, “it’s a lot of hard work, Ludwig. It will take me days just to find something close enough.” 

“And that can be just what we need,” Ludwig seemed to have commanded, decided. 

“So, you want me to head down to Venice now and check the churches there?” Roderich raised a tiring eye. 

“Get copies of every Feliciano you find. Bring them here and we’ll see if he can recognize any of them.” 

Roderich groaned out, knowing of the heaviness that was soon to come. And here he thought he could stay with his lovely piano by himself for the rest of the week. 

“All right then,” he stood, decided, although his body pained at the head of duty. “I’ll drive there and see if I can get back with everything in a week.” He took his phone and well organized the time in his schedule. 

“And what am I supposed to do for a week?” 

“Bond. Get the boy used to our time era, teach him to speak English or a more modern Italian and German…I barely understood him.” Roderich rolled his eyes as if it was an easy task. “Also, I recommend you write down his turning times, that way we can prepare ourselves for if we have to go out with him.” 

“Go out? Oh no, no, no, no, I’m not risking that,” Ludwig stood defensive. 

“We can’t keep him coped up either. We’ll obviously need his help and he’ll have to go along with us for most things, which is why it’s important that you teach him well this week,” he made him understand well, then heading to the fridge, taking some snacks Ludwig kept in there. 

“And what are you doing now?” 

“Something to eat for the road.” 

“You’re leaving right now?” 

“Of course! We don’t know what we’re dealing with here so it’s best we act quick.” He had a well arsenal in the hold of his arms, dumping everything in his bag, ordering his suit and ready to head out. 

“More than ever I’ll keep well in contact. Let me know how he’s doing.” He headed to the door, giving Feliciano one last worrying glance before he slammed the door shut and left the apartment in sudden baffling silence. 

Ludwig groaned out, rubbing his hands on his face, some sort of relax on him before he would start preparing how exactly he would be dealing with Feliciano for the week. As soon as his hand were out from his face, his eyes could only meet his frozen stature, making him decide that perhaps he should start that instant on a bullet list and announcement board. 

This time, Feliciano had remained frozen for the entire night, enough peace and quite for Ludwig to work, hang and organize. He had gone to sleep in relative peace, hoping he wouldn’t awake yet again to a naked man on his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news, the draft page is emptying and the next chapter might not be completely done, if so…prepare that a hiatus for this story might come while I fill the draft page once again.

Feliciano had transformed in the early morning, stretching and yawning as if he had just risen from a bed. It was the sight to welcome Ludwig as he came into the living room, cup of coffee in his hand along with a set of clothing. 

“First thing is first, Feliciano, I need you to understand well that you have to dress yourself from every transformation. I don’t want you walking around here in the nude and I don’t want others who don’t know you well to see you like this. It’s not the norm, neither suggested, got it?” He repeated it well, Feliciano nodding, taking this new set of clothes and beginning to dress himself in this openness of the room. Luckily Ludwig had closed the curtains so there wouldn’t be any peeking from perverted neighbors. 

Feliciano wore a simple cream shirt, along with white jeans, Ludwig later thinking that perhaps he should have saved it for something else instead of remaining at the apartment. As he ushered him to come to the kitchen, Feliciano noticed the new addition of a board, his name written quite gorgeously at the top, the rest was just a time table of different activities as well as a blank area written with the time and hours his statue form had taken. 

“That’s a schedule of your activities for the next week. I’ll be introducing and preparing you about everything in this time era, so you can well adjust,” Ludwig explained, pulling Feliciano to focus on his closeness to the counter. “First of all, I’m going to show you how a kitchen works, so you know what to do if you get hungry and I’m not around or asleep.” 

He kept him close as he guided him, explaining the difference between the freezer and the refrigerator, where, why and how he placed the items inside, and any new foods Feliciano hadn’t seen before. He showed him how to work the oven, the microwave, blender, grill, sink, coffee machine, where the pans, pots, bowls and any other utensils he could accompanying in his cooking were located. He showed him all the other food packets in their cabinets, the lights, the window, even the cookbooks. 

To make sure Feliciano had understood, Ludwig helped him in boiling a simple pasta, along with other ingredients to make as its sauce. Sure, there were dirtied spots in his kitchen now and at one point Feliciano had flared the fire high, but he was able to make them something for their lunch. 

Other hours were set for proper German and English lessons, and for Italian, he would just place him to see and hear some Italian TV and radio. He explained all historical occurrences from 1620 till now, how to use the television, the radio, the lights, the bathroom, even the visitor bedroom that would be his in the meantime. He repeated well that if he wanted to sleep, he should do so there…not in his bed. 

Feliciano spent the next three days stuck in Ludwig’s apartment, Ludwig doing well and writing down his transformations, varied, but he was starting to get a pattern that he would tell Roderich when he returned. On the fourth day, Ludwig decided to dare and bring Feliciano out into the city. They could have a simple stroll and then get some groceries. Yes, simple, but Ludwig was terrified. After the pattern he had gotten, he decided that at the soonest human turning, he would change, and they would go out. They had twelve hours before he would turn to his statue form, which was more than enough. 

“Always stay close to me. Don’t wander, don’t listen and pay attention to absolutely anybody. Any questions keep them to yourself and I’ll answer them when we return. Understand?” A mantra Feliciano had to hide was annoying him. 

The day was a cold one, and Ludwig cursed he didn’t buy Feliciano warmer clothes. Perhaps they could get him more things in this stroll. In the meantime, Feliciano had to wear one of Ludwig’s old coats, large on his small figure, but he found it comfortable, testing out by swinging his sleeve, buttons, even the long tails. A pure child making his way down the streets, while Ludwig stressed, ordering still how they could move about without getting too much attention. 

“Lidl would be a good start, then we can go to Hirmer…or Hollister.” 

Feliciano spun on behind him, distracted with the trees and buildings. How he could keep behind Ludwig was quite a feat. 

“Lidl and Hollister, and back. Yes, that will do.” He turned to have Feliciano crash against him. Feliciano disorientated, trying to get himself back on order. “Feliciano, don’t play around. Walk like a normal person and don’t act like such a fool,” he scolded, taking him by the arm and dragging him the rest of the resting way to the supermarket. 

Feliciano had been stunned by so much light, by the various number of items well organized into this large room. New things, new processes, new doings. He dropped many packages, opened and just ate a cup of chocolate mousse, plus took longer than expected in the check out because Feliciano couldn’t hold well all the items…leaving Ludwig with just buying a couple of bags to carry them better, which he wanted to avoid. 

“I don’t know if I want to take you back to a supermarket,” Ludwig annoyed. 

“Aw, but I liked it,” Feliciano said despite, making Ludwig roll his eyes. 

Their trip to Hollister was much more successful. Ludwig this time let Feliciano chose what he wanted, quite a fine selection that made Ludwig see that Feliciano had quite a fashionable taste…for someone from the seventeenth century. They headed back quickly afterwards, Ludwig shutting the door in an instant, tempted to slide down to the floor in relief. 

“Okay, mission accomplished, now let’s organize all your clothes in your closet.” 

He led Feliciano to his room, both working to hang the newly gotten clothes in the wardrobe. 

“How about I let you choose what you want for dinner.” 

“Oh, oh, can you make that weird…meat thing in breadcrumbs you made two nights ago!” 

“Schnitzel?” 

“Yeah, that! …And pasta too!” Of course, a meal was not a meal to Feliciano without pasta involved. Sadly, he could not complete it, as he turned half way through it. 

They continued on faithfully to the schedule, Feliciano eager and excited for everything, doing well to sit obediently to Ludwig’s teachings. The blond found it all quite endearing, excited himself to teach him everything he knew. That glow in his eyes was an enchanting one he had to admit. 

It was while they were working on some English exercises from a workbook, they received the disruptive entrance of Roderich. He made loud sounds and dropped everything rather messily, odd to Ludwig to the point of thinking he had been dreaming. Well, with all this noise and disruption he would have awaken easily. 

“Ah, you are awake!” Roderich smiled in welcome to Feliciano…only Feliciano. 

“Yes! And I had a really good night sleep!” 

“I meant that…you aren’t a statue right now.” 

“Oh yeah…that too.” 

“I figured you got the files,” Ludwig wanted to hope. 

“Indeed!” He took out a file from his nearest bag, placing it on the table on top of their work and notes. 

Ludwig instantly went for its grasp, opening it to reveal several copies of baptism certifications, elders in form of old manuscripts, shapes and even writing. There were some that Ludwig could barely understand. 

“Feliciano, are you sure that’s actually your name and not your surname?” Roderich asked, Ludwig noticing that most of the people mentioned in these files held it as just a family name. 

“Yes, I’m sure! I’m…I’m remembering that my mother gave me that name because she said I was a happy and smiling baby.” He was sure, neither Ludwig and Roderich could deny. Ludwig continued through the files. 

“Ah, you remembered something else. Do you remember your mother’s name by any chance?” 

“I…think, um, I’m remembering the face of a woman, young, she…looks an awful lot like me,” he chuckled with a saddened tone that had the two other men staring in concern. “But…it’s all I can get…and I don’t…remember her name.” He looked down in defeat, the most hurtful Ludwig had seen in not being able to remind of something so important as his mother. “But yes, Feliciano is my name!” He tried to excite again. 

“Well,” Roderich sighed, “I only found one file with a person mentioned as having that name.” It was just as Ludwig found it, one of the lasts in the file. He read through it, indeed a Feliciano mentioned, but it was under another woman’s, mentioned along with one extra name. He presented it forward for Feliciano to see.

“Do you recognize these people and this surname?” 

Feliciano read, “Renata Valenti, Lovino Valenti and…Feliciano Valenti.” 

There was silence, but it wasn’t long-lasting, the boy was soon standing in excitement, his next words shouted. 

“That’s my name! That’s my full name!” He was jumping, all with a glorious glow that was the brightening of the sun inside that apartment. 

Roderich smiled, and even Ludwig joined in that small celebration. 

“So Valenti is your family name then?” 

“Yes, I’m sure! And that’s-that’s my mother! And my brother!” 

“You had a brother?” 

“Yes! He was older by I think two years. He was usually really mean to other people, but very kind, devoted and sweet to those that mattered,” he smiled warmly. 

“There’s a father missing though,” Roderich reminded as he eyed that parchment well, trying to find any hidden thing they missed. 

“Or some paternal leader,” Ludwig added. 

“What do you mean?” To Feliciano it was all well enough. 

“From what we know of your times, Feliciano, it’s just impossible for your mother to be the head of your family…unless she was very wealthy, powerful or you were even an illegitimate child.” Since there was no hardened reaction and Feliciano just gazed on with more confusion, it didn’t seem he would be that case. They still needed to find out though. 

“There’s nothing more but your name, but we do have a location to your mother’s birthplace and where she moved to after she lived and birthed you in Venice. We can try to find something about her there and end up finding more about you,” Roderich tried to alight with this piece, which earned a curious glow in Feliciano’s full expression. 

“Where to then?” Ludwig wanted to head immediately. 

“Florence, Italy.” 

 

They took a flight three days from then, on a plane that had Feliciano panicking the entire way and had called the attention of the stewards and other passengers. At one point, Ludwig thought they would kick them out the plane midair. But they did it, they arrived safe. 

“See, we’re here, Feliciano, on the ground, breathe, breathe, breathe,” Ludwig repeated as the boy kept a tightening hold on his arm as they headed out, hyperventilating and close to fainting. 

They got in their taxi and made way to the center of the cradle of the renaissance. They managed a hotel with walking distance to all the famous sites, a sure gem for anyone who was visiting the city on a touristic journey. But none of the three came here for leisure, despite how Feliciano wanted to already see all the streets in that instant night of their arrival. They dined in a beautiful restaurant somewhere down the road, in open air, the dimmed atmosphere going well with the candles, old bricks and vines, a wonder that kept Feliciano widened throughout, rare to not focus on the appetizers of sliced meats that they ordered. 

“Feliciano…eat,” Ludwig had to command him. 

They returned to the room, curtains closed to hide Feliciano’s turning. They kept him in the most hidden corner in the room, being Ludwig’s only watch for whenever he had his eyes opened. 

The next morning, Ludwig had to watch as Roderich changed, insisting Ludwig not to bother and join him. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Just another building with old archives.” Roderich himself dreaded to have to do this. 

“You do know I can receive these accesses to find out myself,” Ludwig reminded. 

“Actually, for these specific archives, you don’t. I already checked the list.” 

“Then how come you did?” 

“You’re not my only client, Ludwig. I had an internship here while I was an exchange student and got a lot of contacts. Let me make this easy for you and go myself. If I need you, I’ll call you and let you know about anything I discover.” 

“I’m guessing you’re leaving me to babysit again,” he was already expecting. 

“Precisely.” 

“What am I supposed to do with him?” 

“Show him around, stroll, eat, act like this is your holiday,” Roderich suggested. 

“How kind of you. Any special reasoning on why I should do this?” 

“I’m sure that Feliciano lived here at some point. A day or two around the city could probably help to jog his memory,” Roderich was confident, too highly Ludwig saw. “Show him as much as you can, especially things you knew were there for the early 1600s. Surround him with as much of his times as possible,” his last warning before he headed out, leaving Ludwig alone with a waiting statue. 

 

“It’s gelato,” Ludwig explained, taking from his own vanilla while Feliciano kept giving testing licks to his own raspberry. Truly like a child. 

They stood in front of a small gelateria right next to their hotel, the day hot, both wrongly dressed in long sleeved buttoned shirts and jeans. 

“Now come on, let’s go,” Ludwig hurried, dropping his napkin with the small empty pieces of his cone in the trash. Feliciano was only halfway through his, but following Ludwig’s lead, he dropped it all along, pouting and saddening at the loss. Ludwig sighed but didn’t bother explaining, just walking on and making sure that Feliciano walked by him. 

“What are we going to do?” 

“Sightsee. I’ll be taking you around Florence. Maybe you’ll end up remembering something.” 

“You both mentioned that I used to live here.” 

“Yes. How about this street? Do you recognize it?” Absolutely nothing could be hinted of such times, in fact, Ludwig knew that it was useless, but he wanted to test absolutely anything. Perhaps Santa Maria del Fiore was the only thing that stood the most obvious from his times, and Feliciano did stare at it for the longest time, trying to get a reach, but it wasn’t as Ludwig was expecting. 

“Come on,” he ordered again. 

It seemed he would have to try harder. 

He took him to Ponte Vecchio in just a perfect shine that gave everything quite a color that left Feliciano in ultimate awe, even Ludwig. He bought him entrances into the Uffizi and the academia gallery, hoping that Feliciano would recognize any of those works. He took his time with many of the paintings and statues, noticing techniques and details that most tourist weren’t aware of. He would take Ludwig’s arm and go on with such depths that had Ludwig lost to his words, stilling and focusing. Yet, no new memories arrived. 

They went to other museums, Ludwig brought him inside two churches and even the baptistery, but it was the same widened reaction of when something was new, the intrigue of any tourist surely. 

It was the late afternoon when Ludwig decided to head back to the hotel, checking his phone constantly for the timing. He knew Feliciano had to turn soon. 

“Is there any places with flowers and trees here?” Feliciano suddenly asked. 

“Maybe a park or a villa or something,” Ludwig guessed, still focused on their singular route. 

“Can you take me tomorrow morning?” He asked and pouted, in such an innocent expression that made Ludwig falter in his steps. He had to look away before he was hypnotized and persuaded. 

“It really depends on what Roderich tell us, he’s-” speaking of which, his phone began ringing and vibrating with his call. He didn’t waste a second to answer. 

“You have to come here quick.” 

 

The archives were not that far from their distance, Ludwig and Feliciano arrived well in their haste. They were granted entrance by Roderich’s orders and they meet him in his own table, surrounded well by shelves with papers of antiquity, these kinds of files by his side, even some books he used to further research. 

“You were quite complicated, Feliciano, but I did find something that will give us a big help.” 

Roderich began showing them all the documents which mentioned Feliciano’s name, as well as informing all kinds of things that helped to create a bigger picture. 

“Augusto Valenti was your grandfather, who was quite a powerful man. He owned lots of land and profited from the wine and products he sold.” Feliciano saw the written name and smiled warmly, remembering finally his face, his care, his wisdom, his kindness, his smile, the great ways he played with him as a child. 

“Nonno…” he had to omit, as if he was calling him even from decades apart. 

Roderich and Ludwig smiled as contently, but they had to continue. 

“He only had one daughter. Your mother, Renata Valenti. Although there’s not much here about what exactly happened, apparently, she was involved with a man that was not favorable to your grandfather. Because of this, he took full custody of both you and your brother, which is why you held his surname,” Roderich explained, moving about the documents to show all the proof of where he learned this. Roderich expected Feliciano to further detail but he remained as confused in that aspect. It seemed they would not know much of Feliciano’s father for now. 

“You were born in Venice but brought to live with your grandfather here in Florence. I assume it’s where you were even raised, but the biggest reason as to why I call you here is because of an apprenticeship you held while here.” Roderich kept exchanging documents until he found one topped with the name ‘Ezio Pellegrino’. 

Feliciano instantly pointed to that name, caressing the old parchment as if he could touch him again. “Yes…he was my teacher! He taught me…many new things. I’m…remembering his classes clearly. I think we were five in total under his teaching. We were always experimenting with colors, so it was always covered in all kinds. He wanted us to use as many as possible, scolding whenever we only tried to use one or just two…I drew all kinds of things, but my favorite were…angels with flowers…” Feliciano was impressed with his own reminding, falling silent to just enjoy the sweet memories he had had missed. 

“You were an artist…” Ludwig realized, amazed at how such a simple finding could be so grand. 

Feliciano nodded sure, proud of his once talent. Now especially he gripped his hands, the want to draw and paint returning, wishing to do so that instant. 

“Do you remember your paintings?” Roderich asked. 

“I’m…remembering most of them, yes,” Feliciano realized. 

“Do you remember where you left any of them?” 

Feliciano tried hard to think, but nothing reached, denying with a shake that was like a pierce. 

“Do you remember your sketchbook?” 

“Sketchbook? Isn’t that too specific?” Ludwig had to question. Roderich shushed him, wanting only Feliciano to speak. 

That silence yet again, only hurting Feliciano more to deny once again. 

“Lucky for you-” Roderich pulled out a weathered old leather book, opening to reveal surely notes that had belonged to Feliciano’s teacher. “-your teacher mentioned he took you all on a trip to Brussels.” Roderich waited once again for Feliciano to alight. He continued, “he wrote you lost your sketchbook there…he mentions you were devastated, and he really wished he could have done something to get it back…he says you had incredible things drawn there.” Feliciano continued to be as lost, that detail not alighting in his mind no matter how saddening it had been in his past. 

“You can’t…remember that?” Ludwig questioned gently. 

“No…I don’t remember that,” he gloomed, taking a defeated seat on the chair he had been offered when they had entered the room. The excitement had been too much, he just couldn’t stay still, but now everything was grey again. Roderich and Ludwig could only give him his silence for now, not knowing words of comfort. Ludwig had to hold himself from reaching a hand to caress at a shoulder. 

“What about this sketchbook?” Ludwig returned, hoping to change the downpour in the air. 

“Well…I was thinking about…searching for it…” Roderich shyly admitted. 

“Look for it? Roderich, this sketchbook is centuries old. It could have easily been destroyed long ago or in the hands of some collector in America.” 

Feliciano stood, wanting to distract himself in the ancient books that surrounded, not wanting to think about this right now. 

“Nothing can hurt by trying.” 

“This will take weeks.” 

“Not unless we search in the right place.” 

“Any ideas on where to start?” 

“Yes, I do.” And Roderich gave a smirk that was enough for Ludwig to understand, already groaning at what would surely be the suggestion. 

“Are you serious?” 

“She’s the best we got right now.” 

“We’re not even entirely sure it could still be in Brussels.” 

“We never know, Ludwig. Do you still have her number?” 

“I can make some calls…still don’t know if she would be willing to help after…” 

“You dumped her in a family dinner.” 

“…I know…it wasn’t the best way, well…that relationship wasn’t even the best choice, but I get it, I was rude and…I didn’t think it well through, but you have to understand I was under a lot of pressure.” 

“Why do you always have to excuse yourself like this every time I mention it?” Roderich laughed. 

“Because you won’t let me live it down.” 

“Just call her and get straight to the point…maybe she won’t eat you and actually give you what you need.” 

“For my sake, I hope so,” Ludwig sighed, turning to Feliciano, who was poking at one of the books. 

“Should Feliciano come with us?” Roderich questioned. 

“We can’t leave him alone.” 

“A babysitter perhaps?” 

Ludwig gazed to him, omitting how idiotic the idea was. “You said it yourself, we’ll need him with us for everything.” 

“How do you think she’ll react once she sees him?” 

“Why does it matter?” 

“She’ll get ideas.” 

“What-” a glow caught their eye, one that created instant panic, standing. They wanted to hope it was just the lighting of the room, something wrong with one of the lightbulbs, but no, it was the worst that could happen. Feliciano’s transformation, right in the center of that area, statue once again, this rare magic uncaring of where they found themselves. Roderich and Ludwig instantly surrounded it in silence, stuttering words, keeping their arms expanded to try and hide it from anyone who could be passing by. 

“What the hell, what the hell, what the hell,” Roderich repeated. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” Ludwig wanted to be quick, looking everywhere, hoping for some sign or idea to arrive, as well as just watching for anybody. 

“How weird will it look dragging it across the city?” 

“Very! I thought it was obvious enough not to suggest!” 

“This is Florence! Statues are surely being dragged about constantly!” 

“Not a statue that has been on the news and is supposed to be in my flat in Munich!” 

“Well, what other idea do you have?” 

“Um…” Ludwig continued to look about, until luckily his eyes landed on a plastic cover well between some old items in the shelves. He fetched for it, already unwrapping and extending with clear to cover the statue. 

“We need more than that!” Roderich scolded, still watching the halls for anyone that might enter. 

“There’s nothing else!” Ludwig told him harshly in turn as he put it over Feliciano, the fabric enough to keep everything, not a single inch of marble to be seen. 

“Now what?” 

“We…” Ludwig really wished he had better ideas, “…carry it back to the hotel.” 

Roderich stared with stupefaction, Ludwig already reading all the insults in that gaze. “We clearly can’t do anything else!” 

“This is insane, this is insane, this is insane,” Roderich repeated to himself as he rubbed his temple and tried to control his breathing. 

“Now, come on, help me,” Ludwig began to haul without a moment’s hesitation, keeping watch of where they had to go. Roderich was on the verge of crying his desperation, but ended up having to help in the carrying, too much for his smaller figure, and Ludwig knew well he was carrying the biggest force, but he managed. He tried to think it was just another exercise regimen. Luckily Roderich had been given a special entrance card, with which he could head out of the deeper archives without any wanderers or eyes. Sadly they could not hide anything from the receptionist, who watched with clear question, remembering that neither of these men had brought such a large item, that they didn’t even have something like this in their holding in the building…and where was even that third fellow? 

“Just something…I left a long time ago here,” Roderich tried to excuse in the calmest smile he could utter. 

She was new, and he was well known in the archives, as well as there was truth in the fact that he did use to leave a lot of things behind in the past when he was a student. Hopefully she wouldn’t mention anything to the rest, and if she did, they would just be confused and not pursue more on it. 

They managed to head out, down the crowded streets, through different crosses, blocks, street signals and small parks where they rested. Sure, they got heavy stares, but nothing too questioning, nothing too out of the ordinary for Florence. They arrived to the hotel with the receptionists asking heavy questions. Somehow Ludwig and Roderich having convinced them that they just bought a replica and so finally they managed to get into their room, falling dead on their beds once the door and the curtains were well shut. 

“You don’t pay me enough,” Roderich commented lastly. Ludwig only groaned and didn’t utter anything else. 

With the night, they headed to their rest, Ludwig promising Roderich that he would try to call…her…tomorrow morning…which meant he wasn’t looking forward to the next coming day at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will this be the last chapter before a hiatus? I really don’t know, there’s still some more in the draft page that PERHAPS could make it for an extra chapter, but I can’t make any promises. I’ll probably make a post my tumblr blog (worldwidecakecakecake) later in the day if it does go into hiatus. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When Ludwig woke, the first thing he noticed was Roderich, sleeping his oddly unkept position, body in a weird array with hands extending uncomfortably, no glasses and hair standing in unreasonable ways. He chuckled, a movement that had another stirring…and that’s when he noticed that he had Feliciano resting on him, taking a good side, his entire being one of comfortable bliss. If it wasn’t for the shock, Ludwig would have admitted he looked beautiful. 

“Feliciano…” he called, slight this time, not wanting to disturb anyone in the room. 

“Mmm…” Feliciano moaned out, uncaring. 

“Feliciano…what did I tell you about sleeping in my bed…” 

“Mmm…something about…not doing it,” and yet he cuddled more into him. 

“Mhm.” Ludwig could only respond, hoping the other could notice…yet they remained as they did. To his embarrassment, this was the exact moment Roderich decided to awaken, startled at what his hazy vision saw, quickly going for his glasses, cleaning them well before placing them on his face. Ah…he thought it was worst. Ludwig could notice him trying to hide a hard laugh, smirking and getting crazy ideas over this. Ludwig in turn glared, hoping he understood that he didn’t want a single word. 

“Can we still go to see flowers, Ludwig?” Feliciano dared ask, eyes still shut, yawning and stretching, but his hold always coming back to the large blond. 

Ludwig rolled his eyes and Roderich had to continue to hide whatever burst that wanted to be free. 

 

Mostly because Ludwig and Roderich loved the view, they settled heading on foot to Piazzale Michelangelo. On the way, Ludwig could make the necessary calls that got him his ex’s number again…and actually calling her, and Feliciano could see and pick all the flowers he wanted, a quite gorgeous bouquet in his arms as they moved. While Ludwig talked to her, exuding a lot of stress, Roderich had to remind him to breathe and Feliciano thought he could help by placing a white lily on his chest pocket. 

As Feliciano’s bouquet grew lager and he realized he couldn’t hold it fully in his hands, he began giving to many of the passerby, being working men, tourists, groups of friends on a stroll, even small little children that shyly laughed as they accepted. In part, Ludwig and Roderich wanted to scold him, but in another, it was indeed something sweet that they ended up accepting. By the time they reached the heights of the Piazzale, Florence shown in all it’s beautiful red between these gorgeous mountains, did they take seating in one of the steps to relax, for Ludwig to finish his call and for Feliciano to fix the now remaining flowers in his bouquet. 

“…ja, ja…thanks, thanks a lot,” Ludwig hanged up the call, releasing a deep breath of relief, hanging his head and trying to settle himself well again. 

“Ludwig, are you all right?” Feliciano questioned, nearing well, ready to offer his entire bouquet if it made him feel better. 

“Yeah, yeah…I’m fine, in fact, I have really good news.” He raised his head in a more positive outlook. “The sketchbook…she has it.” 

“She does?” Both Roderich and Feliciano surprised. 

“Yes! It’s been in the archives in Brussels for centuries, she’s part of a research group that’s been trying to find the artist for decades.” 

“That’s wonderful! Now all we need to do is head there right now and take it back!” Roderich suggested. 

“Yeah…we can’t do that.” 

“What?” Roderich was indignant. 

“Isn’t it…supposed to be mine?” 

“Well…yeah, it is, but things are complicated now and she can’t just give something that the archive owns and is worth thousands of euros to just some random boy I’m going to bring over, no matter how we try to explain it. Once they find out who the artist is, they plan to exhibit it in a museum. The best she could do is let us see it and look through it.” 

“What did you tell her?” 

“About what we found out here. Told her about the statue and how I think it’s the same artist.” 

“Do you want me to get copies of the documents we found?” 

“It would be best. I’m also trying to see how I can explain Feliciano.” 

“We have time to think of something. For now, we need to plan our trip to Brussels immediately-” 

They conversed on about plane tickets and places of stay, all unknown things to Feliciano, so he distracted himself with the wonderful view, enchanting, taking his breath and letting himself the moment to just gaze. 

It was indeed a beautiful city, a shame that he could not remember it well, especially when he had once been raised there. He extended his gaze through every street and building he could spot, as if mapping a route deep into the city, deep into searching, to finding. Suddenly he remembered as the streets were once, he remembered walking them in known steps, greeting familiar faces and taking practiced shortcuts, confident and as joyous he knew he had always been.

And then there was him, reaching his hands and welcoming to what would surely be a lover’s embrace. Feliciano remembered that moment fondly, running and accepting those arms to be wrapped around him, laughing and caressing this man’s long blond and rowdy hair. 

And from devotion, came poison. 

Despite how beautiful the memory, Feliciano felt evil now, a reach to let go, to scream at his past self to get away from him. 

Those past green eyes burned in a magic that was to harm. It was the heat enough to get him back, to breathe heavily, standing and even letting the flowers drop to the steps. 

“Feliciano?” Ludwig worried, standing alongside him, placing a hand on his shoulder hoping to steady him. 

“What is going on?” Roderich asked then, noticing the depth of fear in Feliciano’s eyes, as well as how his body easily moved along with every harsh intake of breath. 

“I saw him…” he managed to utter, although still as shaken. 

“You saw who?” 

“The man…the man that did this to me.” 

 

“Did you get a name? A description? Anything he said that could give us a clue!” Ludwig rushed them to the airport gate. 

“I already told you, all I got was a memory, something from when we were in Florence together,” Feliciano answered, readily carrying his own bag, comfortable and sure in his teal buttoned shirt and jeans. 

“Blond, green eyes…doesn’t really give us much, Feliciano,” Roderich commented. 

“I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t remember him that well,” he saddened. 

“How did you even know if he was the one that gave you that transformation?” 

“I don’t know…I just…felt like he was. I was really scared and I really…wanted to get away from him…” 

Boarding began, the three moving together forward. 

“Hopefully the sketchbook in Brussels can give us more information.” 

 

“This is it,” and she gently placed the old sketchbook on the table, before them, the woman using gloves for any kind of movement or opening. 

Feliciano didn’t get why Ludwig was so scared about coming to see her. Laura, as she had been introduced to him, was a beautiful young woman, graceful, kind, yet with optimism in her eyes and even in the red of her lips. She had been smiling to the three of them ever since they arrived, without any of the menace Feliciano was expecting after Ludwig’s worries. 

“Can we look through it?” Ludwig had already asked several times. Laura sighed, but maintained her calm, her true kind exterior. 

“Yes, you can, just be careful, and gloves at all time,” she warned, pointing with command to the pairs she left for the three on the table. 

Feliciano was the first to wear his, wanting to already be reminded of more with surely all the pieces that book held. 

It was small, could easily fit in any small bag, but it had a plentiful amount of pages, surely giving it weight. Its cover was made of leather with a beautiful encrusted border like that of the vines of a flower. Simple, nothing of strong reminder, but Feliciano could already feel a strong sense of belonging, of sensing himself in it. 

Laura did the favor of opening, revealing the first blank pages, in one there was smudge, unintelligible, but Feliciano then remembered that it was where he had long ago written his name, claiming its belonging to him. Nothing else was mentioned when the first drawing showed itself, a beautiful view of old Florence. Feliciano took a wondered breath, remembering then the tall building he had sat on to get this perfect image, how he had to sneak in, later getting into huge trouble when he had been found out. He smiled, remembering then the harsh scolding he got from his grandfather, mother and brother. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Laura had seen his grin, guessing it to be one of interest to the image drawn. 

“Yes…yes it is,” he admitted, Ludwig and Roderich agreeing, just as taken with the first of the drawings. 

Laura continued on the passing of pages, showing them ones of old bottles of wine, a feast with drinks, quarrelling lovers, a sophisticated noble lady, a poor gypsy woman, then flowers and flowers and flowers.

Yes, Feliciano knew it was his, but none of them sparked enough for him to remember something so full. He still couldn’t remember drawing any of these. 

Both Roderich and Ludwig could tell it wasn’t working. They had come to learn the kind of gaze Feliciano would take when he did. 

“Are you guys…looking for something in particular?” Laura wondered as she noticed the somberness they all took. 

“Is this…the only book you have with these kinds of drawings?” Feliciano wondered. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s pretty unique, and trust me, I’ve tried hard to find other squares and paintings to compare…but nothing,” she was truly disappointed at that, as were the rest. 

The three newcomers thought on about what they should do next, where should they head and what other direction could any of Feliciano’s newest memories at least give them. Feliciano kept on caressing the old pages and leather tenderly, as if petting a small creature to life again, a life that could return to his mind and alight everything. 

“Is it possible to have a copy?” Roderich asked, not wanting to lose something that was still too precious to Feliciano even if it didn’t end up really helping. There was still the chance it could later evoke something though. 

“Sure! We already have some scanned files in the archive computer. We can send it to one of your e-mails.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate-” they spoke on other matters that Feliciano didn’t feel like paying attention to, instead focusing on the sketch of a child, a girl playing between flowers, a tender smile that seemed somehow familiar. He remembered how easily she would laugh and enjoy any simple game Feliciano brought here, even explaining these codes- codes? What codes? He asked himself. 

He then remembered…this girl, pointing and giggling to a page in his sketchbook…on this very page, a game between the flowers and the very girl’s smile. A code…a code…he taught her that, she began doing her own because he taught her…and yet now, in his mind, he followed a path she had made in his memory, unlocking, feeling, until he could read a message perfectly. 

This time, she taught him. 

“Remember to go to Amsterdam in twenty nights. Papa got a painting,” he read aloud, interrupting whatever chatter went out between them. 

“Excuse me?” Laura raised her eyes to him. 

“Amsterdam…Amsterdam…” suddenly it clicked, suddenly he felt the jolts of that reminder. “Amsterdam! I have to go to Amsterdam! It’s something about my papa! About papa!” Feliciano shouted, jumping from his seating to head over to Ludwig, hands on his shoulders, gently trying to pull him to join him already in a hurry to the place. 

“Fel-Feli-Feliciano! Calm down!” Ludwig was startled by the suddenness, taking Feliciano’s wrist in quite a gentle hold, looking into his eyes and passing over that serenity that had Feliciano easily stilling. 

Laura took well notice of this, questioning. 

“Why this sudden mentioning of Amsterdam?” 

“I remembered something! There’s a code! A code throughout the whole sketchbook!” Feliciano had no problem with admitting loudly. 

Roderich sent a gaze to Ludwig to let him know that they should be careful with what Feliciano admitted right now, especially in Laura’s presence. 

“A code? How could you find a code?” Laura wondered, Roderich and Ludwig alerting, figuring it was already too late and they had to be quick to make up something. 

“I believe we should be leaving now!” Roderich suddenly stood, hurrying over to the door hoping the other two followed. Although slow and surprised, Ludwig stood as well and began dragging Feliciano out. 

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Laura called and they did well to stop, hoping she wouldn’t question on. 

“Don’t worry, it’s something of ours that we can manage with,” Ludwig tried to distract. 

“It seemed to do with the sketchbook…” Laura then noticed the heavy and even caring hold of hands Ludwig and Feliciano kept. “I must know as well if it’s to do with it. Please, let me hear about this! I might be able to help!” 

The three gazed between each other, Feliciano confident and happy to tell, but Roderich and Ludwig were always as skeptical. 

“Finding out more about this sketchbook means a lot to me, and anything that can bring more light to it, makes years of searching and studying worth it. I’ll repay back with my own service and knowledge.” There was such a plead in her tone and voice that the other two men were falling weak to. 

They did need all the help they could get, but for now, as Ludwig sighed, it was best they talked to Feliciano by themselves and then speak about what limits they were willing to give Laura about what was really happening. 

“We have to go right now anyways,” Ludwig worded for all, “we can meet up again tomorrow if you wish.” 

“Leuven, right in the midafternoon,” she had declared sure, almost scolding. 

“We will be there then,” Ludwig promised, then having the three leave. 

Laura noticed that Ludwig didn’t let go of Feliciano’s hand for a moment. 

 

“Having that cup by the bottle of milk is a reminder that I was supposed to get some ceramics for mamma,” Feliciano pointed to the computer screen, where the scans of the sketchbook were presented. 

This design was of an old abandoned garden, yet Feliciano added that reminder with those sudden details. Ludwig admired how he made them fit in with colors and light even if there were rather odd items to have in such a place. 

“And this one,” he clicked so they could have the next page, “was a reminder to go to a ball I was invited to. The time was seven, for how the people are placed, and the date was the 10th of January with the positioning of the walls of this room.” 

Ludwig was truly impressed, continuing to have Feliciano discuss and tell him all kinds of messages spread throughout this sketchbook. 

“Do you think anything here will tell you about the person who did this to you?” 

“If there is, I haven’t been reminded.” They had begun to go through all the sketchbook again. “No…I don’t think I mentioned him.” 

“The Amsterdam appointment you had though,” Roderich wanted to remind, “why was it so important that you got like that?” 

“Because there was a painting I had to get from papa!” He agitated as before, even raising himself from the hunched position he had over Ludwig’s head as if he was to go that instant. 

“Yes, you’ve made it clear. Please, sit down, we’re not leaving anytime soon,” Roderich scolded, bringing him to a seating in his hotel bed. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I remember that I had been planning for that trip for a while before I…was here!” He raised his arms around him. 

“With your dad?” Ludwig had been wondering. 

“Yes!” 

“I thought you didn’t have any contact with him and you hadn’t mentioned anything about him till now,” Roderich questioned. 

“Well…to be honest, I still can’t remember anything else,” he deflated, “but I know it’s important! I feel it! And maybe through this painting we can figure something out!” He had a point there, Ludwig and Roderich exchanging glances, surely deciding if they were now to take that trip to Amsterdam to find this painting. 

“Where would we look for such an old painting in Amsterdam? If it’s even still there,” Roderich already exasperated. 

“Laura!” Feliciano glowed. 

“Laura? What makes you think she’ll know?” 

“She studies these kinds of sketches and paintings, especially my sketchbook! Maybe she can help us find a connection!” He stood once again in excitement. 

He was right, one that Roderich and Ludwig wished they didn’t have to agree on. They gazed to one another, making that choice. 

“Should we let her know?” Roderich decided to word. 

“I don’t know…should we?” Ludwig decided to leave that on Feliciano. 

He was desperate and he was willing give and tell anything if it meant sure answers. “She seems trustworthy, I think we can tell her,” he decided. 

Ludwig and Roderich sighed, already hating the explanations they would have to give her, as well as her point of decree of marking them crazy. 

 

Ludwig practiced what he would say under his breath, while Roderich helped Feliciano with the suit he decided on. 

“Isn’t that a little too much to meet up with Laura?” Ludwig questioned, although admitting how well it hugged his forms, the dark and unique colors making him vibrant and surely a beacon for many to stare. 

“I always have to look presentable in front of a lady, especially one who we will tell something very important and she to us.” 

“Feliciano, we’re not entirely sure she’ll have this information.” 

“And are you trying to woo her?” Roderich glared, halting his help, clearly in refusal if this was the case. 

“Oh no! Laura is a beauty, but I am not in pursue of her like that. I just want to be presentable.” His smile was honest. 

“All right. Just behave, be careful what you tell her, don’t shout, calm down and-” Ludwig was dealing with the keys, getting the door for them, when his words were interrupted by a familiar blinding light. As always, when Ludwig and Roderich would recover, Feliciano’s lively presence was gone, instead, he was a statue again, in its known grace, now both just sighing, beginning to get used to it. “-or just…turn and…we don’t have to deal with Laura,” Ludwig smiled, relieved, ready to take off his coat and settle with staying in the room. 

“No! Ludwig, someone has to go talk with her still, even if without Feliciano. We already established a time and meeting spot and it would be awfully rude to leave her waiting,” Roderich scolded. 

Ludwig wore an angered expression, but followed his words and opened the door ready to leave. “Then come on, let’s go.” 

“I think I’ll stay here instead and watch over Feliciano. I’ll leave everything to you,” Roderich still managed to excuse, finding hard to hide his smirk, because he’ll be leaving Ludwig alone with his ex. 

Ludwig let him his opportunity, fierceness in his eyes but deciding on heading on. 

“If Laura finds everything hard to believe, you know where to find us.” 

 

It was a beautiful, shinning day. Deep blue sky, a sparse cloud to decorate, shinning flowers, plentiful people and surrounding architecture and art to shine. Brussels was indeed enchanting for a stroll today. It made Ludwig wonder how Feliciano would react to the colors of the day, to the pastries in the windows, the statues, even the people that joined for dessert and coffee at cafes. He groaned and scolded at himself for wondering…even missing him in such moments, decided then on just repeating the words he would tell Laura about his mission. 

He reached the Leuven exact, Laura expecting Ludwig to do so, waving at him from the nice table she chose outside to enjoy from the lovely day. 

“Where’s Roderich and Feliciano?” She instantly wondered. 

“They stayed back at the hotel. We’ll…probably join them later.” He took his seat comfortable, looking over the menu of small artisanal coffees this café held. 

“Join them?” 

“We came here to talk, didn’t we?” Ludwig wanted to hurry. 

“Learn to relax a little, Ludwig, order your coffee, breathe, we can talk about this calmly and without hurry.” 

The waiter then arrived with her coffee, Ludwig taking his order, giving her time to enjoy from a drink, letting a plentiful silence settle that to be honest, did make Ludwig feel more at calm. 

“I do have a curious question you don’t mind me starting with.” 

“What is it?” 

“Feliciano.” 

“What about him?” 

“Be honest with me, is he your new lover?” 

Ludwig’s eyes widened in such a comical way Laura feared of spilling her coffee, stopping at mid sip. 

“He…He…oh my god, he…uh…” whatever nonsense he was to continue with was stopped with his own coffee arriving, not paying attention to its presentation and aroma when we was still thinking how he was to answer. He hadn’t planned or prepared for this. “He…he is not!” He managed. 

“You two seemed really taken…not even in our relationship did you ever look at me the way you did at him.” 

Ludwig reddened, tapping his fingers on the table rapidly, a habit he tended to present when he was nervous, surely with countless of things rampaging around his mind. 

“Your judgement was mistaken. Feliciano is just a friend.” 

“Are you sure? Just a friend?” Laura still questioned, for now not buying it. “You can tell me, you know I won’t have a problem. Feliciano seemed really sweet and you two actually make a very cute couple,” she smiled trying to establish that confidence and trust. 

Ludwig was touched by it, but he had to deny, yet again. “Yes, he is just a friend helping me…in a particular way with this assignment.” 

Laura raised an eyebrow, “In what particular way?” 

And so Ludwig neared and began to tell. Laura was patient enough to sit and listen well through his whole speech, only reacting in the contours of her expression, Ludwig knew unbelieving and skeptical for now, but at least she didn’t laugh and make any instant accusations. There was an intimidating silence by the time he finished, Laura, of course, not at all convinced. 

“I…never took you for such a storyteller, Ludwig,” she admitted, leaning back, somewhat disappointed. 

“I expected you to say something like that.” 

“Then why tell me this? Why can’t you tell me what’s really going on with the statue? I don’t think coming up with these wild tales is helping both our causes here.” 

“I told you because it’s true, because we know you can give us the help you offered.” 

“Ludwig, please, just-” 

“I am prepared to prove it to you. Come with me and you’ll see.” 

Laura sighed, but decided to entertain him, standing, paying for their drinks and settling way to the hotel.


End file.
